


Theft and Other Annoying Things

by Elthefirst



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Past Torture, Seizures, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 04:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthefirst/pseuds/Elthefirst
Summary: Draco Malfoy keeps stealing Harry's friends and Harry kind of hates him but not really.Featuring an Italian holiday and Harry's inability di face his feelings.





	Theft and Other Annoying Things

The first was Luna.  
Harry wasn’t happy but at least he could make sense of it.  
She was sitting in front of her books just like Harry and just like Harry she had stopped reading them for at least 20 minutes. Ron was snoring lightly next to him.  
Two tables over, the Slytherins in their year were gloomily pouring over their books in absolute silence, like they were afraid that by making a sound people would remember their presence and kick them out. Well, Draco Malfoy wasn’t silent. Harry doubted that he could even if he wanted to.   
Suddenly, Luna gasped and Harry felt everyone at the table move to their wands.  
She got up seemingly unaware of the chaos she had caused and trudged over the Slytherin table.  
“Draco,” she said in a loud whisper. Malfoy turned to look at her and Harry could see his face from his seat if he craned his neck. But why would he look?  
“Are you being hunted by river nymphs?”   
Malfoy looked at her and twitched then smiled and twitched again.   
“They- they are giving me t-terrible nightmares,” he answered too loudly in the silence of the library. He twitched again.  
Luna coed at him and they began talking rapidly of apparent nonsense that made perfect sense to them.  
From that moment on it seemed like you could not find Luna without having to suffer for at least half an hour of her discussing insane theories with Malfoy. Harry missed Luna and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for avoiding her at all costs.  
Himself and Draco Malfoy, that is.

It took at least one month of Malfoy shadowing Luna everywhere they went for Harry to realise.   
Admittedly, he had done everything in his power to avoid thinking about it.   
It hadn’t been easy since Luna seemed blissfully unaware of the discomfort she caused by keeping Malfoy around. Malfoy, however, looked perfectly conscious of it.  
The problem wasn’t the twitching or the gasping or the stammering. The problem was that none of them could admit out loud of thinking that Malfoy had lost his marbles without having to face the fact that it meant admitting that Luna never had hers to begin with.  
So much for Gryffindor bravery.  
Then, one day Harry realised where he had already seen someone twitching like Malfoy.   
Of course, the next one had to be Neville.   
Harry had known since the moment he had one of his nightmares where he recalled someone being tortured on the floor of the manor. Fortunately, that night had been a faceless someone and not one of his friends but for the first time Harry forced himself to look and as soon as the red glimmer of cruciatus had left the room he saw the spasming body gasping on the floor and recognised Malfoy’s spasm.  
From that moment on, he had avoided Malfoy -and Luna- even more.   
It felt like a punishment for ignoring the vague knowledge that somewhere in the ministry angry Aurors were punishing the Malfoy family while he was too busy adapting to a world with no Voldemort and with no Fred, no Tonks and no Lupin. A world where he couldn’t smile at the sight of Ron awful socks because there was no Dobby and where a small army of people trudged amongst the memories of those they had lost.   
Lucius Malfoy had yet to wake up and, as time passed, people had just accepted that he wouldn’t again.   
And Draco twitched while the Aurors responsible had been sentenced to a slap on their wrists.   
So, of course, Neville didn’t punch him in the face when Malfoy asked him for some kind of root that, according to Luna, would help him with his problem with a river nymph.  
Malfoy was, according to Neville, very good with plants. Sometimes the three of them would spend hours milling about the greenhouses.   
Neville didn’t exactly believe Luna and Malfoy but he was kinder than the rest of them and, Harry thought looking at his pained face once that Malfoy had started almost convulsing in the great hall, braver. 

“This word doesn't exist!” cried Hermione.  
Her hair was like a halo around her head and a platitude of colour-coded notes was strewn across the table.   
That was how Hermione became the third.   
Because Malfoy and Luna were absolutely barmy, but they were also two of the best students in their year and the NEWTS were only a month away.  
Ron flushed and scanned his scroll looking for the word he had apparently invented but Hermione had already left the table and joined Luna, Malfoy and Neville on the other side of the room.   
She didn’t stop helping Ron or Harry and she definitely wasn’t suddenly Malfoy’s best friend, but she now was exchanging notes with him and from time to time they walked together to the great hall discussing ancient runes and other boring subjects.   
Harry had tried to avoid her, too. She hadn’t allowed it.   
Three days later, they began studying at the same table and Harry noticed that Malfoy seemed to twitch less when Neville was around. Not less, just more controlled. Almost like he was trying to reduce them consciously not to hurt his feelings.   
Harry refused to think that it was nice of him.

Ginny wasn’t attending Hogwarts. She had started training with the Harpies before the dust of Hogwarts had finished settling back after the battle. Mrs Weasley was worried sick but the rest of the family seemed happy for her. Mr Weasley managed to convince her to at least take some NEWTS and after months of unanswered letters, she had agreed.   
She came to Hogwarts more or less once every month to collect material and discuss her options with the various professors.  
Harry wanted to believe that she was avoiding all of them, but he suspected that she was avoiding him in particular.   
“I don’t want to get back together,” she said a couple of weeks before the NEWTS.  
They were walking around the grounds still sweaty from an impromptu match of quidditch after which all their friends had mysteriously disappeared.  
Harry felt like he could finally breathe.  
“I suspected,” he said smiling at her.  
She smiled back and leaned in to kiss him.  
“One last,” she whispered against his lips.  
They stayed a minute in silence looking at each other and then started laughing.   
“Thank Merlin that was awful,” she said still grinning, “if it had been nice it would be very awkward now,”  
But it had been awful and that was fine.  
Ginny’s best friend was Luna and Malfoy was now an extension of Luna. Harry wasn’t in the least surprised at hearing them laugh together like old friends. Hurt maybe, but not surprised.   
Harry counted her as the fourth, but thinking back on the times she had avoided him and stayed with Luna and Malfoy, maybe she wasn’t.

Next Malfoy decided that Harry’s life was going to well for his liking.  
“Wizards and witches traditionally take one who year off,” said Hermione reasonably, “I would think that we can at least spare one month.”  
Harry had jumped in unthinkingly, dreading the solitude that awaited him at number 12 Grimmauld Place.   
Auror training started in January, anyway, he reasoned with himself.  
It hadn’t occurred to him that Malfoy would join them until he got invited to the Leaky Cauldron with the rest of them to decide the destination.   
Italy had been the final choice and Harry tried to think of some reason not to join them.   
“The Italian coast is full of sirens,” mumbled Malfoy between gasps. Luna nodded, understanding. The rest of them ignored him. Two days later Hermione sent all of them the details for the portkey and the key of an old house on the coast of Tuscany.  
Florence, she decided, was the perfect location to visit the rest of the historical cities. Ron and Harry were already planning ways to avoid the cities to stay lounging on a beach.   
Three days before their departures, Hermione had finally finished compiling a comprehensive itinerary for the whole months. Harry silently kissed goodbye his dream of relaxing on a foreign beach.  
“Okay, so the rooms are the last thing we need to decide,” she said looking up. It was just the three of them that night at Grimmauld Place.   
Harry nodded but didn’t care. He imagined that they would each have their rooms considering that the house had ten room and there were only seven of them.   
Hermione scratched her head. “The problem is Pansy,” she whispered.  
“Who?” asked Harry loudly. Ron even interrupted chewing on his tandoori chicken.  
“Yes,” she continued, “I mean-” and blushed, “I suppose Ron and I will share a room and you could stay with Neville,”   
Ron definitely stopped chewing to listen.  
“Draco will sleep with Nott and Zabini in the biggest room,” she said like it wasn’t news, “but what about Pansy?”  
Harry felt his mouth dry from being open.  
“I will ask Luna if she can stay with her and Ginny since she will only join un on the last two weeks,”   
She closed her planner resolutely and smiled brilliantly.  
“We are going to have so much fun!”  
Harry whined.

Italy was hot.  
Harry was too busy being quietly enraged by the company to wonder whether it was also beautiful.   
For some reason, Blaise Zabini and Neville had decided to become best friends and a Nott had become the resident chef of the house so everyone was mildly in love with him.   
Parkinson, at least, had the grace to keep being a little piece of shit, so the world was still turning on its axis. Malfoy was his usual crazy self. Hermione spent a fruitless night trying to reason with Malfoy and Luna that the moon did indeed exist. Ron had wasted at least two hours trying to get her to join him in their shared room before he had given up and started taunting Nott to make popcorns.   
Harry passed that night swatting mosquitoes away and absently listening to their bickering. He wanted to join in the general laughter, which, surprisingly, seemed to be more at Hermione’s expense that directed towards the insanity duo.  
It was almost 2 am when Ron took out his chess set and sat in front of Draco. Luna and Hermione kept debating but Draco was too busy positioning his pale pieces in front of Ron’s dark ones.   
Of course, thought Harry, Ron had to be the fifth.  
And thus started a new tradition.   
Sometimes Ron won and sometimes Malfoy did. The annoying thing is that they started to chat while playing and only a week later they had ended up talking with no chess set between them.   
“Of course you are good,” said Draco one night after his third loss in a row, “your great great great grandfather Archibald Weasley is one of the most famous wizarding chess champions in history,”  
Ron blushed and puffed his chest.   
Harry smiled at him and hated Malfoy just a notch more which never hurt.

For some strange reason that Harry had refused to listen to, Malfoy only went to the beach dressed and spent all his time under a large frilly umbrella.   
“It’s for protection,” explained Luna following his gaze, “against the sun demons,”  
She must have been immune to them because all her visible skin was a lovely shade of burnt red. Ron had slowly started shedding skin around the house and Hermione kept dousing them liberally with muggle creams.   
Ginny arrived during the night and she started complaining that they had two whole weeks of holidays without her. Harry was lying with his feet up the back of the biggest couch because Hermione had made them walk around Rome for three days straight and she wouldn’t let them stop for anything until she had explored every nook of the city.   
In Saint Peter, Malfoy had something that Harry suspected was a seizure.   
Neville and Blaise had promptly taken him outside and Luna followed them. Harry thought that maybe she had been crying, but he tried not to think about that.  
A while later Neville came back and told them that the rest had apparated back home. He started spouting some nonsense about the influence of the Mediterranean nymphs and laughing, but there was a wary line in his forehead and the rest of the day had been subdued.  
When they arrived back at the house Ginny was hugging Luna and they both looked exhausted. Harry had yet to see Malfoy.   
“Are we going to Lucca tomorrow?” asked Ginny breaking the tired silence.  
A couple of people groaned.  
If Harry had to be completely honest, every single city they had visited had been beautiful and he never thought that he would have liked them as much as he had, but his feet were still hurting after Rome and he knew for certain that Hermione still wanted to go visit the Cinque Terre on the last few days. They had visited what felt like a hundred churches and museum and Harry couldn’t remember which one was the one with the big dome or which one had the fresco of the holy family with the green background.   
“Why don’t we have a girl day?” said Parkinson who remained her shitty self but for some reason, Harry didn’t really understand, got along fine with Ginny.  
“Splendid idea,” said Hermione glancing at Luna who was still leaning against Ginny. She looked like she hadn’t slept in years, but she smiled and nodded.  
The boys, Harry included, perked up at the idea of having a day of relaxing just for themselves.   
That night Harry stayed awake in bed waiting for Neville. He wanted to know how was Malfoy but he hoped that Neville would tell him without asking. In the end, it was useless because Neville never came. 

After that, they went to visit other cities around Tuscany but Malfoy never joined them. One of them always stayed back in the house and Harry could tell that it annoyed him.   
One day, when they decided to go to an amusement park, Hermione stayed with him and Draco twitched extra the night before.   
“I am f-fine!” Harry heard him yell one night while the rest of them were having a bonfire by the beach.   
They all fell silent in time to hear the low murmur of Zabini’s voice and the slightly higher sound of Nott whining. It was one of the last days and they were supposed to go visit Siena one last time the day after. Hermione had organised the whole day including a much-anticipated wine and food tour.  
Hermione bit her lip. Harry knew that she regretted telling them. It was their last real outing. The visit at the Cinque Terre had been conveniently forgotten. All of them had stayed with Malfoy at least once. Even Ron. Harry was the only one who hadn’t.  
Malfoy had spent the whole day trying to tell them that he could be left alone. First gently and gradually angrier and angrier.  
Nott was supposed to be the one but even Harry could see how disappointed he was.   
“I don’t care what you say,” said Harry casually when the three of them joined them around the bonfire. Nine faces turned to look at him in surprise, “I know you, Hermione,” he continued ignoring them, “you say that it’s going to be fun, and then we end up in another church to look at the frescoes,”  
Ron was looking at him like he had grown another head. Luna seemed the only one that had understood.  
“Also, I don’t like wine,” he semi-lied.  
He got up and looked deep into Hermione's confused face.  
“Tomorrow I’m staying at the beach to relax and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind,” he said with finality slowly stalking away.   
Malfoy sent him a hateful glance and Harry was not above being happy about it.

Harry was basking under the sun. He was stupidly pulling at the hem of his swim trunks to see the harsh line of his tan.   
“Are you sure you don’t want to come for a swim?” he asked lazily turning on his towel to the shadowy spot he knew contained Malfoy.  
“The M-Mediterranean sssea is f-full of sssirens,” he answered without looking up from his book.  
“Luna said they are in the south,” said Harry with a sigh.  
Malfoy shook his head.  
“They can c-come up north,”   
Harry sighed again and rolled on his back.  
“We should have stayed in England, then,”   
“W-would you have c-cared?”   
Harry thought about it. Maybe not.   
“My friends care about you,” he decided to be honest.  
“Th-that mmust b-b-baffle you,” Malfoy said with an amused huff but Harry thought he didn’t really sound amused.  
“Not really,” he answered sitting up and glancing at the sea, “occasionally, it hurts me,”  
He didn’t wait for Malfoy’s answer deciding instead to run against the shallow waves of the Mediterranean sea.  
He jumped into the water trying not to think about the fact that the reason he hadn’t wanted to listen to Malfoy’s response was that it annoyed him. The stutter.  
And he hated the twitching and the spasming and the seizures.   
For a long time, longer than he wanted to admit even to himself, he had thought that he was pretending. Like in their third year when he had been scratched by Buckbeak.   
He had morbidly hoped that one day Malfoy would just forget to put up his pity show and his friends would remember that he was, first and foremost, a prick.  
The truth was that Malfoy had been a prick. Now he was only out of his fucking mind.   
He looked towards the shore and blindly recognised the pink smudge that was Malfoy’s ridiculous umbrella. He wondered how long he could hold on to his stupid little hatred of Malfoy before he had to accept the fact that he didn’t really hate him anymore. He thought it was pity, at the beginning.  
Maybe he was wrong.

When the others arrived back home, they tried their hardest to downplay the fun they’d had.  
Ron started whining that Hermione had started a long lecture on the history of wine in that area. Harry appreciated that but they all looked so content that he had half a wish to punch him in the face, anyway.  
“Did you have fun?” asked Luna with one of her small smiles.  
Harry shrugged and Malfoy smiled at her mid twitch so that it looked like a grimace.  
“W-we t-talked b-but P-Potter fffinds my st-stutter irritating,” he said simply.  
“I never said that!” he answered defensively looking around the outraged faces of his friends.  
“I kn-know the signs,”   
This time, it was Malfoy that left before he could answer and Luna followed him still smiling.  
“It is a bit frustrating,” she murmured with a smirk.  
“I really didn’t say it,” said Harry to the remaining people who were still watching him with complicated faces.   
“I know you didn’t,” whispered Hermione, but her forehead was creased.  
“Don’t worry,” said, surprisingly, Zabini, “it took me months before I learned not to just say the hard words for him,”   
“I honestly believe I was being helpful,” he shrugged and he noticed that Nott and Parkinson nodded at his words.   
It didn’t make Harry feel any better.  
The reason he found Malfoy frustrating wasn’t that it took him a while to say something. The reason he frustrated him was...that he felt responsible.  
Neville looked at him almost without blinking and Harry knew he had seen right through him.

“Sometimes Draco says horrible things,” Said Neville while changing his clothes for the night.  
Harry was already in bed leafing through a quidditch magazine. It was in Italian but he didn’t need the language to understand the gist of it.  
“I want to be appalled,” he continued despite Harry’s apparent lack of attention, “but what I feel is mainly relief,”  
Harry turned the page and smiled at a picture of Ginny passing behind some hotshot Quidditch player.  
They stayed in silence until well after Neville had finished getting ready. He was already turning in his small bed when Harry talked.  
“How do you stand it?” he asked at the page he was still staring.   
“I don’t,” Neville answered simply, “you learn to like him for what he is now,”  
Harry wished it was that simple.

“So,” said Ginny at her third glass of wine, “what are you guys going to do when we get back?”  
It was their last night. The portkey (a rusty bucket) was ready on the living room table.  
“I am starting an internship at the ministry next Monday,” said Hermione excitedly.   
They were all at least tipsy because there was a sudden chorus of congratulation and raised glasses like they didn’t know already. (They all did: Hermione had received her letter while they were in Naples for the weekend).  
“We are starting Auror training in January,” added Ron once the noise had calmed down.  
“Until then, we party!” he cried and again it came accompanied by howls and raised glasses.  
Harry took a sip of his wine, which he still didn’t really like, and smiled. Knowing Ron their time until January was going to be filled with takeaways and telly.  
“I think I will try to fix Grimmauld Place, first,” he said almost unthinkingly.  
“The B-Black residence?” asked Malfoy with a surprised jolt.  
Harry nodded but keeping up with the truce they had formed in the last couple of days they both looked away and refused to talk to each other.  
“Draco and I are going to travel the world,” said Luna dreamily playing with the plastic straw she was using to drink her wine.  
Draco gasped and looked at her. It took him a while to stop gasping to talk. Harry hated it.  
“I nnever ssaid I’d c-come!”   
Luna took his hand like it was normal.  
“You will,” she said simply.  
“It’s d-dangerous,” he muttered but the conversation had already shifted to Zabini, who was going to continue studying to become a barrister, and Nott, who just had too many ideas to have anything concrete.  
“I will start at the prophet in September,” piped up Parkinson ignoring the scoff from almost everyone at the table. She looked satisfied with herself and Harry decided that she would make a fantastic journalist. She was gifted with the right lack of human decency to be one.  
“Wha-what about you, L-L...Nneville?”  
Neville, who had been silent and spectacularly drunk, blushed.  
“Actually, I have some good news,” he said slurring his words, “I just heard from professor Sprout. I will start to study under her to become a professor,”  
Neville grinned and the whole table exploded in a happy chant.  
It took a while for the noise to die down, again.  
“I can’t believe it’s our last night here,” said Hermione softly.  
Harry nodded and looked at the speck of sea they could see from their patio. He hadn’t known how much he liked the sea. For one crazy moment, he wished that Luna had asked him to travel the world with her. He wanted to know what the world looked like outside of the bubble of the British countryside. He wondered if he would fall in love with other beaches not covered with dry Mediterranean scrub and if he would fell his feet pulse with pain for walking in other cities with different cobblestones.   
“You could come with us,” whispered Luna leaning against him until her head rested on his shoulders. Harry let his cheek rest against her warm blond hair and wished was brave enough.

“I th-think that you are c-crazier than I am,” said Draco letting himself fall on one of the ugly armchairs in the conservatory of Grimmauld Place. He waved his hand rapidly to dispel the cloud of dust that rose from the cushions.  
Harry sighed and kept trying to revive what little was left of the ambers in the fireplace.   
Luna was almost dancing around the room with a particularly ineffective feather duster which managed only to raise enough dust to make them all sneeze.  
“Right,” said Harry frustrated when the little flame he had managed to form died, “tell me again about those sun demons?”  
Draco sighed and twitched moving some more dust.  
“The-they are nnot actual d-d-demon,” he said like Harry was being stupid, “tha-that’s just how p-people c-call them,”  
“Oh,” answered Harry getting up, officially defeated by the fire, “then it makes perfect sense. I apologise,”  
“I m-miss when you refused t-to t-t-talk t-to me,” Draco sighed.  
“Likewise,” answered Harry with a smile.  
“I think we are doing amazing progress,” said Luna happily.  
“No, we are not,” they both said at the same time.  
“The house will be ready in no time,” she ignored them.  
Draco and Harry looked at each other and shrugged.  
Harry wasn’t really sure how Luna and Draco had started “helping” him to Grimmauld Place. It had started with a group effort until people had begun working-or just having better things to do, and Harry had already accepted that he was going to work alone. Except Luna never stopped coming and Draco was still following her everywhere she went.  
“You are rich,” said Ron every once in a while when he went to visit him in Diagon Alley, “just buy a new house,”  
Sometimes Harry agreed. Sometimes he hated that Ron wouldn’t understand.  
The job was boring and exhausting at the same time but the real problem was that, without even noticing he had become the sixth.   
Not only that but somehow, despite their suddenly busy life, every single Friday night they all managed to meet up at the leaky. Hermione sometimes fell asleep while still telling them about their internship and Neville and Blaise rented a house together in Hogsmeade and always looked at the fireplace at the end of the night with dreading faces. Harry wasn’t sure what Nott did in his life but he always arrived late and left early. He tried to ask Draco once but the bastard just smirked and changed the subject (usually he started ranting about the various creature inhabiting the Manor of which the existence Harry seriously doubted).  
“It’s going to be Christmas, soon,” Said Harry finally sitting in his own hideous armchair. Draco raised an eyebrow but the effect got ruined by a small spasm.  
“If the house is ready, we could have a party here,” he continued swatting the dust away from his face.  
“I will be in Borneo for Christmas,” said Luna still dancing with her feather duster, “but I will miss you, there,”  
“Just you?” he asked her but looked at Draco instead.  
“Draco is scared of acromantulas,” she said conspiratorially, like it was a secret, “I tried to tell him that they are lovely creatures but he just won’t believe me,”  
Harry snorted but decided that it was wiser to let her think what she wanted.  
“And I am not going alone,” she added finally settling on top of Draco, “I will be with Rolf,”  
This time, it was Draco’s turn to snort. Harry personally believed that Draco was just jealous and that Rolf was an amazing guy.  
“So, what are you going to do, then?” Harry asked Draco trying to change the subject before they started fighting once more about the apparent lack of wrackspurt around Rolf’s head.   
“I wah-was thinking of helping an i-idiot G-Gr-Gryffindor to clean his ha-house,”  
Harry smirked and kicked him lightly on the shin.   
Draco grimaced and moved his leg, jostling Luna. 

The first time that Draco had an attack in Grimmauld Place, Harry cried.  
Luna had just left with Rolf and Harry had not felt that useless since his fifth year. He scrambled around the room like a panicked chicken. He finally knelt next to Draco’s convulsing body eyeing the fireplace wearily.  
“Please,” he whispered desperately.   
Draco was still convulsing widely.  
He fished his Draco’s wand that had rolled somewhere on the carpet of the bedroom they were fixing still gripping at his arm with probably too much strength.  
The familiar electric sensation of magic run through his arm even before his mind could formulate the right words and the silver stag appeared like a vision.  
“Call Luna,” he said hoarsely.  
The stag jumped out of the room and Harry was left alone, again. He briefly wondered if he could summon two of them when he felt the chill of panic choke him.  
Draco was still convulsing in a pool of sweat and urine and his eyes were a white slit and his mouth open in a silent scream. For one second, Harry thought that he looked possessed. He moved one strand of hair out of his face and felt himself cry.  
“Please,”   
Harry was still holding the wand even as his hand moved to paw at any part of Draco’s body he could reach. He pressed his body against Draco’s in a useless attempt to lessen the spasm. He doubted it would help.  
The tug of breached wards distracted him only for one second, enough the let the wand fall from his hand.   
“Draco,” cried Luna entering the room.  
Rolf stood at the door with wide worried eyes. Harry wanted to yell at him.   
“Harry,” said Luna harshly in a voice that Harry didn’t recognise, “you need to let him go,”  
Harry nodded but his arms refused to obey.  
“Let go,” she repeated pushing his shoulder.  
She started reciting words of a spell he didn’t know pointing her wand at Draco’s temple. there was nothing dreamy about her voice but Draco suddenly stopped convulsing and Harry felt his chest fill with air from where his hand was still pressed against his sternum.  
Draco didn’t wake up because he had never fallen asleep but his eyes were at half-mast, like keeping them open was a chore.  
“Help me,” said Luna softly nodding towards the dusty bed in the corner of the room. Harry nodded and slowly sneaked his arms under the crook of Draco’s knees and his shoulder. He was too heavy and Harry groaned, but it wasn’t until he had deposited his body on the bed that it occurred to him that he was a wizard and that Luna probably meant for him to cast a levicorpus. Draco stared at him with his tired eyes and a frown. His body was periodically shaken by shivers and twitches but his eyes were attentive even behind the haze. Harry realised that the noise he kept hearing was his own heart still drumming in panic.  
Luna murmured a cleaning spell over Draco and Harry who hadn’t even noticed how wet he had gotten until then.  
He gulped. He was still holding Draco in a skewed hold and realised that he didn’t want to let him go, yet.  
Luna laid on the other side of the bed, scooching closer until her small frame was almost completely plastered on Draco’s side and Harry envied her.  
He moved away from his semi-lying position but Draco whined softly and blindly moved as if to grab him.  
“Stay,” said Luna but it felt like Draco was asking.  
Harry nodded and lied down grabbing Draco’s wrist where his slowing pulse felt like a victory.  
He closed his eyes because Draco was still staring and Harry didn’t want to see.  
The creaking of the old floor suddenly reminded Harry that Rolf was still there. He heard his boyish voice when he whispered something to Luna and her dreamy response but couldn’t make out the words.   
Harry didn’t know how much time had passed but almost out of the blue, Draco’s body relaxed, his breath became shallower and he was asleep.  
“Teach me,” croaked Harry finally opening his eyes.  
He heard the sound of Luna shifting on the covers and the smell of dust rising.  
“I will,” she whispered.  
Harry nodded and somehow he let himself sleep.  
He wasn’t sure if it had been a dream or if he had heard the soft, stuttering voice of Draco talking to Luna but when he woke up, Draco’s head was nestled under his chin and his impossibly long legs were pushing against his.  
Harry strengthened his hold on Draco’s wrist, still clasped in his hand and pushed closer feeling every small twitch of his body and loving every single one of them.

“Is it safe?” asked Harry eyeing the brightly coloured potted plant Neville had planted in his hands.  
He shrugged.   
“Unless you lick it,”  
Blaise laughed and gave him a much more sensible set of quills.   
“Happy Christmas,”   
“You too,” answered Harry surprised by the sudden feeling of Zabini’s strong arms around him. He was careful not to let the plant touch his stomach.  
“Are we the last ones?” asked Neville walking slowly towards the parlour where a game of chess between Ron and Draco was well underway.  
“Oh, Harry,” said Hermione before Harry could answer, “the house is amazing,”  
“I like your Christmas tree,” grinned Nott from the table where he was serving the entrèes (no one had actually asked him to make dinner, he just did it unprompted).  
“M-my Idea,” piped up Draco while observing Ron’s rook move dangerously close to one of his.  
The Christmas tree was very Slytherin. It was composed of a series of progressively more hideous Black paraphernalia and covered with a series of Slytherin scarves and ties they fished somewhere in the attic. At the top, instead of an angel, a single tiny Ravenclaw glove belonging to none other than Luna Lovegood. It was the last thing she had done in the house before she left. The house, then, had still been full of dust and dark magic and it was too early to build a Christmas tree but nor she nor Draco had seemed to care.  
“Dinner’s ready,” yelled Ginny from the kitchen but when she came out she was only holding bottles full of wine (Harry had bought a beer for himself).  
“You can’t drink,” said Ron pointedly taking some bottles from his sister’s hand before they could fall.  
“No,” she answered with a smirk, “but you lot can get drunk and entertain me,”  
Parkinson came from the kitchen holding a far more sensible bowl of soup. She ignored the Weasleys like she could not possibly care less about them and sat next to Hermione.  
They immediately started talking about something regarding new laws and Harry tuned them out.  
Draco looked at the abandoned chess set forlornly and got up to join the table.   
“I can play with you, later,” whispered Harry taking one of his arms to guide him to sit next to him.  
“I’m not that desperate,” Draco whispered back but sat down moving his chair just a bit closer to Harry’s.  
Draco rarely stuttered when he whispered and Harry had taken up the habit of having entire conversations with him in whispers.   
Harry took his bottle of beer and took a sip, sneaking his free hand around Draco’s shoulders.   
For some reason, he liked feeling Draco twitch against him almost as much as he hated seeing him do it.  
“Happy Christmas, by the way,” he whispered next to his ear and kissed his cheek because he knew Draco hated it.  
Draco turned to send him a heated glance and twitched against Harry.  
“I hate you,” he said loudly and the whole room stopped being noisy.   
But Harry smiled and Draco smiled back.  
“I hate you, too,” he answered.  
Then, because Draco was crazy and Harry was crazier, they kissed.


End file.
